


Just a Trim

by Sennkestra



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Gen, Haircuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sennkestra/pseuds/Sennkestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose's hair is getting a bit long, Kanaya gives her a trim. Just a short drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Trim

You can feel her hands working the lather through your short hair, massaging your scalp with cool, firm hands; the calloused pads of her fingers working in smaller circles, first at your temples and then moving back around to the name of your neck, lightly at first and then more forcefully, but always careful not to scratch.

As her fingers brush against the sensitive spot at the nape of your neck, a shiver runs down the back of your neck and let out a soft sigh.

You try to turn to crane your head back to look at her, but she shooshes you and turns your head back to its original position. “Rose! I request that you to keep your eyes shut, or you will get shampoo in them again. Now cooperate.” 

You oblige, but only after flicking your tongue out at her.

You can hear a chuckle as she turns on the warm water again, moving the sprayer around to bathe every inch of your scalp in warm water, her other hand gently massaging any last remnants of the soapy lather out of your hair. 

Eyes still closed, you can hear the flip of a cap and a squelch of something being squirted out, followed by the slight slapping sound as she lathers something up in between her palms – you can smell the cool cucumber and green tea scent of your favorite conditioner, and then her hands are on you again, working the smooth cream into every strand of your damp locks. 

Then you hear the hiss of spraying water again, as she rinses your hair out a final time, this time with cool water. 

After she turns the water off and puts a hand behind your shoulders to lift you back up to a sitting position, you shake out your wet hair, spraying tiny droplets everywhere. She laughs as she covers her face against the spray, giving you a mischievous thwack on shoulder with a dry hand towel before using it to wrap up your damp hair, throwing a sheet around your shoulders as well. 

Tugging you up by your hands, she leads you over to sit on a stool you’ve dragged in front of the four-poster bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress behind you as she takes out a wide toothed comb, beginning to work out the few remaining knots from your hair. She utters a quick “Sorry!” as the comb catches in a tangle and jerks your head back, but you don’t mind. The firm pressure as she works out the tangles is reassuring, letting you know that she is in control and you are safe in her hands.

Once she seems satisfied that your hair is knot-free, she begins to twist it up and clip it back with those colorful plastic claw clips – you don’t have a mirror, but you’re sure you probably look ridiculous. Then, once that is done, she is ready to begin, as she reverently draws out a well-cared for pair of barbers scissors from their soft black leather case. 

Closing your eyes again, you let your mind wander as she begins to cut, carefully combing out thin sections and trimming them off with a quick snip, snip. You can feel the wet ends of your bangs tickling the front of your face, the slight release of tension every time she cuts another piece. The sounds of the scissors echo around your head as you take in the sounds, first on one side, then another, echoing in your mind as a shivers run down your arms from the gentle touches of cool, sharp metal against warm and tender skin, as a few drips of cold water run down the back of your neck. 

Then you hear the buzz of the trimmer as she moves on, and you can feel the tickle of it on the back of your neck, moving up in smooth, slow motions. The soft touch as it runs across the nape of your neck, just barely touching your skin. The buzz as it passes behind your ear. 

And then it is gone, replaced by a hot rush of air from the blow dryer as she ruffles up your hair, making it fly freely in the streams of warm air. You too reach up your hands to your head, and your fingers touch as you run them through your hair, your slim fingers tangling with her firm ones. 

The noise of the drier stops and you lean back, your head falling into her lap as her deft fingers continue to play with your hair, tracing faint patterns in your scalp. Closing your eyes again, you begin to drift off, barely noticing as she carefully unwinds the towel and sheet from your neck, bundling them up and setting them aside to deal with later. You mutter sleepily as she convinces you to stand and crawl up onto the bed, not bothering to slide under the covers. Instead, you just glance up at her again, smiling sleepily you lay back into her lap, smiling sleepily as you let your heavy eyelids fall, dozing off as she gently strokes your damp hair from your eyes. 

Your dreams were sweet that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea I've had floating around in my head for a while.  
> Partially inspired by [ listening to this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUDTlvagjJA), as well as my own love of haircuts.
> 
> Anyway, thoughts? Feeback is always appreciated.


End file.
